


Crashing Down

by bullvalene



Series: Harry and Gawain [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Auror Ron Weasley, BAMF Hermione Granger, Healer Harry, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Drug Use, Powerful Harry, Smart Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7446469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bullvalene/pseuds/bullvalene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Complications arise for Harry regarding Terry's upcoming trial and his relationship with Gawain. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“Coffee’s ready,” he said with a smile, and as he turned to walk past Gawain, Harry leaned up and pressed their lips together, the way he used to, like it was any other morning. Gawain was surprised, but he recovered quickly. He cupped Harry’s face and ran his thumb along Harry’s cheekbone, kissing him as gently as he could. When he pulled back, Harry looked startled. “Coffee’s ready,” he repeated breathlessly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crashing Down

Gawain awoke with a gasp. He couldn’t remember the dream, but he was still consumed by fear. Forcing himself to sit up, he took stalk of the room. The back of his shirt clung wetly to his back. He shivered. To his right, something -- or someone -- moved ever so slightly. Reflexes that had saved his life more than once kicked in, and Gawain was out of bed and in a defensive position, wand at the ready, quickly and silently. 

“Lumos,” he whispered. 

“Gawain?” Harry’s sleep rough voice called to him. Harry attempted to shield his eyes from the light as he slowly sat up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, uh, go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s early. Go back to sleep.”

“Are you going to work now?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Did something happen?” Harry was confused. While he was no stranger to being awoken in the middle of the night for work, he wasn’t as good at it as Gawain was. 

“No, it’s, uh, I forgot something at the office. I have to go get it.”

“Now?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry was even more confused than when he had initially awoken. “I’ll make coffee while you shower.”

“No!”

“What?”

“Nothing, sorry, just… stay here. I want to check something first.” Gawain’s heart was still beating uncomfortably fast in his chest and he could feel the cold sweat running down his back. Trying to appear as normal as possible, he crossed to the bedroom door, opened it quickly and checked up and down the hall before exiting the room. 

Harry had seen Aurors clear a building before, and it looked oddly like that’s what Gawain was doing. He put on his glasses, picked up his wand, and followed Gawain into the hallway. 

Gawain, who was walking down the stairs with his back up against the wall, whispered back at Harry without taking his eyes off the area in front of him. “What are you doing?”

“Covering you,” Harry said. 

“Sh!” 

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Harry whispered. 

Harry followed Gawain through the house, wand at his side, while Gawain cleared all of the rooms. As he finished the last room, a floorboard above them creaked. Gawain who had finally started to relax, flinched and raised his wand. 

“You know it does that sometimes.”

Gawain nodded, but didn’t respond. 

“Gawain, no one’s here.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do. We just checked the whole house. And I would have felt anyone trying to get through my wards.”

“Okay,” Gawain lowered his wand, but he didn’t relax his posture. 

“Do you still need to go to the office?”

“Huh?”

“That’s what I thought… Can we go back to sleep, please?”

“Yeah.”

But once they were back in bed, Gawain lay stiffly on his back. Harry could feel his eyes shifting around in the dark. 

“Hey,” Harry soothed, shifting to his side to look at Gawain. “Can you tell me what’s going on with you?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Gawain…”

“It was just a bad dream.”

“Do you remember what it was about?”

“No. But I’ve had it before.”

“How often do you have it?”

“Not often. But I just.. I wake up scared shitless and even in that moment I can’t remember the dream. I just remember being scared.”

“Have you had this dream before when I’ve been here?”

“Yes.”

“Gawain, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I usually can’t. I just lay there and wait to calm down. And sometimes I watch you sleep, sorry.”

Harry smiled softly. “Can I come a little closer? Put my hand on your shoulder?”

“Yeah.” And Gawain relaxed a little bit as Harry shuffled closer and put his warm hand on Gawain’s clammy shoulder. “Should I-- I mean, I never ask you if I can touch you after you have nightmares. Should I? Why--”

“It’s fine. You just seemed little on edge and I didn’t want to freak you out.” 

Harry had an excellent bedside manner, Gawain thought as he let his eyes drift shut. Calming, beautiful voice, soothing touch, and he didn’t seem to be expecting anything as he lay beside Gawain in silence. 

“I just have a bad feeling.”

“The best thing you can do after a nightmare is go back to sleep.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’ll wake up feeling much better.”

“Okay,” Gawain agreed, but he continued to lay there and stare at the ceiling. 

Harry yawned and moved closer to Gawain, resting his head on his shoulder and wrapping his arm around Gawain’s waist. 

The next time Gawain woke up he did, indeed, feel better. However, his right arm was also completely numb. Harry looked more peaceful asleep on Gawain’s arm than he had in several weeks. This was also the most prolonged contact Harry had initiated or allowed since leaving the hospital. Gawain didn’t have the heart to wake him, but Harry seemed to sense that he was being watched and opened his eyes. 

Harry blinked up at Gawain and smiled. Gawain wanted to lean in and… something. Put his nose in Harry’s hair, maybe. But he made himself stay still. With a wave of his hand, Harry cast a tempus charm. “We should get ready for work. Do you wanna shower first?”

“Uh, yeah,” Gawain cleared his throat but didn’t move. Harry sat up, and blood began to flow back to Gawain’s arm. He couldn’t help the face he made. 

“Do some arm circles. I’ll start breakfast,” Harry said, and he left the room without a backward glance. 

By the time Gawain got into the shower, feeling had mostly returned to his right arm. He sighed as the water washed over his body and leaned his forehead against the shower wall. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the warm press of Harry’s body against his, how good it felt to hold him. He let his hand lazily travel down to palm his cock. Gawain and Harry had never had sex in this shower, but that didn’t keep Gawain from imagining it. 

Harry would slip into the shower behind him, and wrap his arms around Gawain’s waist. Harry would turn Gawain around, push his back up against the shower wall, and get to his knees. He’d smirk up at Gawain before gently taking the head of his cock into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. Gawain’s hips would stutter forward, but Harry wouldn’t seem to mind. He’d move his hands, then, sliding one up to Gawain’s hip, to urge his hips forward again, while the other would reach under Gawain’s cock to gently roll his balls in his hand. Harry’s eyes were so green, and he would look up at Gawain and -- 

But no, it would be uncomfortable to kneel in the shower. Fantasy Harry got to his feet. 

Gawain would take both of their cocks in his hand and stroke them together. Harry would tilt his head up and Gawain would be able to kiss him, the way he’d wanted to for weeks. Harry would card his hands through Gawain’s wet hair, scraping his scalp just enough to make Gawain shudder -- and that always made Harry smirk. But then Gawain would slide just one finger between Harry’s ass cheeks and slowly press inside. Harry would break their kiss with a gasp, his eyes squeezed shut. 

And it would never, ever happen in this shower, but Gawain imagined fucking Harry, hard, up against the shower wall. He’d bury his face in Harry’s neck and -- 

And Gawain bit his lip as he came all over his hand. 

Harry knocked on the bathroom door. “Gawain? Are you almost done?”

Gawain didn’t trust himself to speak, so he pretended not to hear. Once the shower had washed away the remains of his orgasm, he turned it off, wrapped a towel around his waist, and opened the door. Harry had clearly been about to knock again. 

“Coffee’s ready,” he said with a smile, and as he turned to walk past Gawain, Harry leaned up and pressed their lips together, the way he used to, like it was any other morning. Gawain was surprised, but he recovered quickly. He cupped Harry’s face and ran his thumb along Harry’s cheekbone, kissing him as gently as he could. When he pulled back, Harry looked startled. “Coffee’s ready,” he repeated breathlessly. 

“Okay,” Gawain whispered, letting his hand fall from Harry’s face as he stepped aside. 

***

“I thought the trial was supposed to be over quickly.” Harry had a headache building in his eyebrows. The strain of staring into operating lights for several hours combined with the interruption in his sleep schedule was not doing him any favors. 

“I know, I know, I said that, but Harry, honestly… how could it be?” Hermione seemed to be asking this question to a larger audience, but it was just she and Harry in the room. 

“Can they do it without me?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what else they have. But… this is going to be like after the War. It’s not just Boot, there’s going to be a series of trials. They’ll need you to testify as Head Healer, if nothing else. Someone needs to explain what’s in all of Thompson’s files.”

“Fuck.”

“Well --”

“I haven’t even looked at any of his stuff.”

“Harry!”

“I know, Ro’s been trying to get me to do it… but I just don’t want to.”

“Well, I imagine Aurors will be coming to collect it all soon. Don’t you talk to Gawain about this? It’s all Ron’s talking about.”

“I know,” Harry grit out. It was why he’d been avoiding Ron. 

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Do you talk to Gawain about it?” Hermione seemed very worried. She had changed her mind about Gawain drastically in the past few weeks. It turned out that while Gawain might not have been reaching his potential as Head Auror, Head of the DMLE was a much better fit. Apparently he was an excellent “big picture thinker” and had had Hermione’s back at more than one crucial point. She had also decided that Gawain was good enough for Harry, and given her blessing (although Harry assured her he had not been waiting for it). 

Harry sighed. No, he was not talking to Gawain about it. He was not talking to anyone about it. The hospital was running well. Harry had needed to move some people around, and fire some people, and they were still a little short staffed… but he felt he was handling it with a kind of professional decisiveness that did not come naturally to him. The reputation of the hospital had generally been preserved, and having Harry Potter as Head Healer certainly didn’t hurt. Apart from having their research studies placed under a probationary clause and needing to apply for recertification to conduct their own clinical trials, everything was fine. Harry and his staff had been putting in a lot of work, and he hoped to have the certification in time to accept a new class of trainee healers in the fall. If not… the staffing issues would continue, perhaps for another year or two. And then where would he be? 

So no. He had not talked to Gawain about it. And he was not talking to anyone about it. Whatever it was. Because he had never really asked for details. He hadn’t looked through any of Thompson’s notes and he wasn’t planning on it, either. All he knew was that Thompson had been running some kind of potion trial with Terry as the attending and they hadn’t followed protocol and a lot of patients had died. That’s all he really needed to know to do his job, and that’s all he was trying to do. 

“Harry…” Hermione prompted. Harry realized he had been staring at his desk for a long time. 

“Tell Ron I have the boxes whenever he’s ready. Maybe he can come have lunch with me and take them back to the office after or something.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“Huh?”

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, you too,” Harry muttered distractedly. 

It did not surprise him, then, when Ron showed up at 11 and suggested they take a long lunch out of the office. 

“Come on, we’re leaving.” 

“I can’t just go, I have --”

“Your schedule’s cleared for the next two hours, sir,” Romilda called from the doorway. 

“Since when? And hang on -- what did you just call me?”

“The Minister cleared it on her way out. And she said that I should address you more formally in front of other people and to third parties.” 

Harry just stared at Ron. 

“You’re looking at me like I can do something about it, and I can’t,” Ron shrugged. 

“Don’t be weird, Romilda,” Harry beseeched her. 

“Yes, sir,” Romilda said, but she winked at him as she returned to her desk. 

“You seem a little high strung, mate,” Ron commented. They had made their way to Diagon Alley and were sitting outside. Harry was tapping the table with his fingers and shaking his leg under the table.

“Huh?”

“I said -- never mind. Hey, what are you doing this weekend?”

“Nothing. I mean, I’m probably going to work. Why?”

“Both days?”

“Yes, Ron, both days.”

“Well, it’s just… you haven’t been to Sunday dinner in a while, so…” 

Harry sighed and fidgeted with his cutlery. “I just don’t want to answer questions about… you know.”

“Look, I can talk to Mum. It’ll be fine.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You know, just so you know, I accidentally mentioned to Gawain -- well, I mentioned it on purpose, but I didn’t think it would be a big deal -- that you hadn’t been to dinner in a while and he kind of, well, freaked out, honestly. To be fair, my tone was super accusatory until I realized he had no idea what I was talking about. I tried to walk it back, but it didn’t work out very well.”

“It’s okay, Ron. I need to talk to him anyway.”

“Yeah?” Ron was looking at his water glass like he could bore holes through it with his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Harry answered. He felt a sudden wave of affection for Ron. Why was this making him feel stressed? Ron was his best friend. “You can ask me about it,” he added quickly. “I just don’t want, you know, all 100 plus of your family members descending on me at once.” 

He and Ron shared a grin. “They can be intense.”

“I just have no idea what to say to Gawain. I haven’t really talked to him in weeks. I’m running out of excuses to put it off… but it’s just so much easier not to, you know?”

“Based on my interaction with him today he’s a little, well, as stressed out as Gawain can be. He’s a very even-keeled person. He’s trying to guess what you need and he’s terrified of fucking up.”

“I need… I need to process my relationship with Terry. Because I did not do that the past year and a half. I did nothing. It didn’t even reflect on it at all. I had myself convinced that we just had a bad break up. And it’s only now that I’m starting to think about it… but it’s not all at once, just in pieces. Like, this morning I almost ran into Gawain when he was coming out of the bathroom, and I remember one time I did that to Terry. And I laughed and he slammed my head into the door jamb. And that’s bad, right? But is it fair to tell Gawain stuff like that? I feel this compulsion to tell him, but what would he even do with that information? What do I want him to do with that information?”

“Okay, so, one thing at a time: yes, that is bad. And I think whether or not it’s fair depends on why you’re telling him,” Ron sounded calm, but he was studiously shredding his napkin. 

“I think on some level he deserves to know. Like, he’s a person who’s important to me -- I mean, he’s --”

“He’s your boyfriend.”

“Yeah. But I told Terry things and he -- well, he was a psychopath, right?”

“Malfoy says all Ravenclaws are psychopaths.”

“You know, I think I underestimated how weird Malfoy was when we were in school.”

“Tell me about it. But Gawain’s not a psychopath. And Terry isn’t either, actually. He’s an extreme narcissist with a God-complex. I don’t know if this helps or not, but he probably did care for you. I actually would have expected him to be able to maintain normal relationships, but I don’t know… I don’t know when he started being physically abusive --”

Harry made a sort of strangled noise in the back of his throat. 

“Well, you’re gonna get asked about that.”

“That’s the other thing. I don’t want Gawain to find out about this from the trial.”

“That’s -- yeah. Yeah,” Ron sighed. 

“What should I say?”

“In court?”

“No. I mean, yes. But we can talk about that some other time.”

“Tell him what you told me, I guess. The two of you can figure it out. Hermione’s better at this kind of stuff,” Ron added with an apologetic smile. 

“I feel a lot better, Ron, really.” Looking to shift the conversation, Harry asked, “How is it, being married to the Minister of Magic?”

“She’s been so busy, I have no idea how she does it.”

“I feel like we’ve been saying that since we were twelve.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never meant it as much as I do now. She keeps saying things are going to settle down, so we’ll see.”

“That’s how I felt the first two weeks at the hospital… but now that it’s been a little over a month I’m starting to panic.”

“Yeah, me too. Like, what if this is it? What is this is settled?”

“Not for Hermione. She’ll make it work.”

Ron’s wand vibrated suddenly in his pocket, and he removed it and read the message. “Gringotts. You coming?”

“Absolutely,” Harry grinned. 

They had to pushed their way through a crowd moving quickly in the opposite direction, and as they got closer they could see why. Aurors were clearing the area around the bank steps and Malfoy was standing at their base, holding a piece of paper in his hands. 

“No civilians,” he sneered at Harry as he and Ron approached. 

“Okay, sure,” Harry replied, and snatched the piece of paper out of his hands. 

“There’s been a robbery,” Malfoy told Ron. “Well, an attempted robbery. They didn’t make it very far in terms of stealing any gold, but they do have a fair number of hostages.”

“One of them’s badly hurt,” Harry murmured, looking down at the note.

“Yes, they initially exchanged spells with a couple of DMLE employees and then they sent that note out to me with one of the hostages.”

“Who?” asked Ron.

“That little girl,” Malfoy indicated a child standing with a woman who appeared to be her mother. “They said they let her go as a sign of good faith and asked us to send in a healer.”

“What did the girl say?”

“She said ‘I’m turning six on Tuesday.’”

“Malfoy.”

“I’m serious. She’s useless.”

“Did she say how many of them there were?”

“Oh, yes, I suppose that was useful. She said there are three -- two men and a woman. One of the men is hurt.”

“How many hostages?”

“She didn’t know. Maybe she can’t count that high.”

“I could go in,” Harry offered.

“No,” said Malfoy. 

“Well, who else would you send?”

“We’re not sending anyone!”

“Harry’s right,” Ron said. “We do need to send in a healer, and Harry’s the obvious choice.”

“Why?”

“Well, he’s the only healer with any kind of Auror --”

“No, I meant why send a healer at all?” Malfoy interrupted. “Let the fucker die.”

“That could aggravate the others. And we have hostages in there.”

“Potter could aggravate the others. Personally, I find him very aggravating.”

“Ron?” Harry asked, ignoring Malfoy.

“Go,” Ron nodded. 

“Here,” Malfoy pulled an extendable ear out of his pocket and held it out to Harry. “We’ll be listening. Because this worked so great for everyone involved last time. We should really do this more often. If you get stabbed or anything we’ll be right up.”

Harry took the offered ear, resisted the urge to punch Malfoy, and started up the steps. 

“I’m the healer,” Harry called as he opened the door. He edged his way inside with his hands up. “They sent me up to help.” 

About 25 people and goblins were sitting with their backs up against the counters. A woman in a mask walked up and down, her wand pointed casually at her hostages. In the middle of the foyer were the two men. 

“Help him, please,” one of men cried out. He had taken off his mask and was kneeling next the body of his fallen comrade. The man sounded French. 

“Okay,” Harry tried to smile reassuringly as he walked towards the two. 

“Any funny business, and I kill a hostage,” the woman grinned at Harry. 

“Of course, I understand.” 

The man on the floor was unconscious. He had lost a lot of blood. 

“His name is --”

“Ah, ah!” The woman cut him off. 

“He is my brother. Please.”

“Okay.” Harry knelt down the blood and tapped the man on the shoulder, gently at first, and then harder. He did not respond. “Hey!” Harry yelled and tapped him harder still. “It would help to know his name,” he whispered to the brother. 

The woman pointed her wand at a large lamp on the counter and it exploded. “That’s your warning, Healer.”

“Okay, sorry, sorry,” Harry soothed.

The woman grunted and continued her pacing. 

Harry lifted up the man’s shirt to examine the wound. His brother moaned in anguish. It did look pretty bad. “It’s gonna be okay, here, look.” He placed his hands around the wound and focused his magic. The wound was deep, and the process was slow, but the wound began to close. The brother and the woman had stopped to stare. 

And Harry realized his mistake. Performing wandless magic of this kind was not common. The woman was certainly agitated by Harry’s display of power. Harry pretended not to notice. 

“Okay,” he dropped his hands and sat back. “Your brother needs to get to a hospital.”

“No! No, no, no!” The man screamed, getting to his feet and shouting down at Harry. “You fix him, here.”

“I’ve done all I can here. He needs a blood replenishing potion.”

“We’re not taking him to a hospital,” the woman scoffed. “He’s not worth it. If he can’t walk out of here, we leave him behind.”

“None of you are walking out of here,” one of the goblins scoffed. 

“The whole Auror office is outside,” Harry added. “Let me walk out with you. I can make sure your brother makes it to the hospital,” he addressed the other man. “You can save him.”

“No, here’s what we’ll do,” the woman stopped her pacing and pointed her wand at Harry. “You take him out with you right now. Tell the Aurors I want an international portkey.”

“To Switzerland,” the man chimed in.

“No, to Lithuania,” the woman glared at him. 

“Um, okay, I’ll do my best,” Harry said. He had no idea what he was doing. “I think it might help if you let the hostages go. Listen --” the man looked like he might start screaming again -- “they let me in here in the first place because you let that little girl go. Let the rest of the woman and children leave. It will make it easier for me to get you the portkey.”

The woman considered it. “Okay, new plan. Women and children, get up. You’re going to drag him out, too.” She indicated her fallen comrade. “Tell them to send in the portkey.” 

Harry got to his feet. “Look, if we can’t get the portkey --”

“You’re staying,” the woman grinned at Harry. “You’re going to help us find a way out of here while they kill time asking for a portkey.” 

“There is no way out,” the goblin bared his teeth. 

“Sure there is. I’ve done it before,” Harry said. The goblin rolled its eyes. 

The woman’s eyes widened. “How?” she whispered. 

“Well, they have dragons guarding some of the vaults. We just have to find one, and then we can ride out on it.”

“And you’ve done this before?” the man looked skeptical. 

“I mean, only once. It’s not the kind of thing you get a lot of chances to practice.”

“We don’t have dragons here anymore, you know that,” the goblin snapped at Harry. 

“He’s lying,” Harry said to the woman. “They told me the same thing. Come on, let’s go,” he beckoned to them both. The man hesitated. “Oh, forget the portkey! How would you make sure it didn’t just transport you straight to Azkaban, anyway? You can ride to Lithuania on the dragon. Let’s go!” And he started off towards the entrance to the vaults. 

There was silence, he could tell they were still deciding, and then footsteps. Harry paused at the entrance and grinned at his new compatriots. The woman was buzzing with excitement, the man was clearly still preoccupied about his brother. 

Harry pulled out his wand. The woman was quick, but he was quicker. He stunned the woman in time to put up a shield and block the man’s attack, and then in a flash of red light the man fell to the ground. Surprised, Harry looked up to find Malfoy. 

“Draco Malfoy, you’re my hero,” Harry grinned. 

Malfoy turned an alarming shade of red. “I -- I -- I was --”

“The line you’re looking for is, ‘Ah shucks, jus’ doin’ my job.’”

“What?”

“Harry, don’t antagonize Malfoy,” Ron called from where he was ushering hostages out of the bank. 

“Hang on,” Harry called to Ron. “Let me check people over before they leave.”

“Good thinking,” Ron answered. “And I’ll have Aurors take this one to the hospital, yeah?” He stared down at the man on the floor. 

“Yeah, have them tell Demelza he needs to be treated for blood loss. He should be fine in a few hours. And someone needs to have a word with the DMLE employee who did this.”

“Oh, I think Weasley and I will be having many words with them,” Gawain called from the doorway. 

“I dunno, I was kind of thinking something along the lines of ‘you’re fired’ would do the trick,” Ron responded. 

“Isn’t there more than that? I mean, this was --”

“Self-defense,” Malfoy cut Harry off. 

“They practically disemboweled him!” Harry cried.

“This is just what we fucking need right now,” Gawain sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He did look stressed. Harry felt a twinge of guilt.

But as they filed out, Gawain winked at him. “Nice work,” he whispered as he grinned at Harry. 

***

Harry felt more like himself than he had in weeks. And also wired with nervous energy. He’d been in high spirits when he returned to the hospital and had even managed to haul all of Thompson’s boxes out of the storage closet. 

Romilda was excited by this as well. She was still smiling when she showed Anthony Goldstein into his office. “Mr. Goldstein to see you!” And before Harry could say no, he was standing in Harry’s office. 

“Hey, Anthony,” Harry said, dragging a hand through his hair. “Could you close the door, Romilda?”

“Yeah, of course.” Romilda closed the door and then stood with her back to it, staring at Harry.

“With you on the other side of it,” Harry sighed. 

“Oh!” Flustered, Romilda yanked open the door and made a quick exit. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Anthony said.

“Yeah, well. Can I get you anything?”

“No,” Anthony said. “But thank you,” he added as an afterthought as he sat down across from Harry’s desk and opened his briefcase. Anthony was one of the those people who simply was his profession. Being a government lawyer had been his ambition since he was a young boy, and he was very good at it. “First round of subpoenas were handed down today. Here’s yours,” he handed a manila envelope across the table to Harry. “How much work have you done with Thompson’s files?”

“Um, none,” Harry shifted uneasily in his chair. 

“Good, let’s keep it that way. I’ll take them all with me what I go.”

“I didn’t know you were --”

“As of two hours ago.”

“You’re moving fast.”

“I am moving at the normal speed. This all should have been taken care of weeks ago. I need to ask you some questions, but I must begin by reminding you that while I represent the Ministry in this case, I am not your lawyer and our conversations are not privileged.”

“Okay,” Harry said. 

“You have to take this,” Anthony sighed. He was still holding out Harry’s subpoena. 

He took it. “Why --”

“Why shouldn’t you look through Thompson’s files? Because I have realized in the past two hours that you may be my biggest liability and I would like you to say as little in court as possible.”

“I --”

“Given the nature of your relationship with Terry Boot, it will be very easy for him to make you seem like an accomplice.” 

“I --”

“Did you ever consult on a case with Boot?”

“Yes, and --”

“Did you ever take over cases from Boot?”

“Of course, we --”

“Did you, in either of these situations, write a prescription for a patient?”

“Yes, but --”

“As department head, did you sign Boot’s time sheets?”

“Yes,” Harry said curtly. Anthony was starting to annoy him. 

“Don’t take a tone with me, Harry. Those time sheets will be provided as evidence that he was at the hospital when he says he was. Only to be running a potion trial that didn’t exist, he can’t have been. So he was either in two places at once, or he’s innocent.”

“I mean, I signed them, but --”

“But you didn’t really check them?”

“Look, when you run an emergency room, there are a lot of papers to sign and a lot of patients to see, I --”

“So, you signed them without reading them?”

“Well, no, I just, I trust my staff to be truthful in their timesheets. I just sign them. It’s been years since I’ve signed one of Terry’s timesheets. I don’t really remember.”

“What else do you not remember signing? Prescriptions? Patient consent forms? Charts?”

“No, I --”

“Oh, so just this, then?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m just letting you know how it’s going to go.” Anthony looked completely unaffected by Harry’s outburst. “And you’re going to be need a better answer than that.”

“Are you telling me I should be talking to a lawyer?”

Anthony sighed, and a small frown creased his usually expressionless face. “I’m saying you’re talking to one right now.”

“But not my lawyer.”

“Right,” Anthony stood up and braced his hands on the back of his chair. “Look, uh…” he paused uncharacteristically. “I’m only telling you this because we’re friends --”

“We are?”

“But we shouldn’t discuss it. Don’t say anything, and I can’t look at you when I say it. You didn’t hear it from me, but it’s the first thing you need to tell your lawyer. Okay?”

“Um, okay.”

“Terry’s always been a great actor and a pretty manipulative bastard,” Anthony turned away from Harry and moved across the room, where he began to fidget with the blinds to Harry’s window as though he’d never seen anything like them before. “It’s a good thing I’m working this case, because I can see right through his bullshit. Anyway, I asked him… I told him it seemed perfectly reasonable to me that an employer would trust an employee to not lie on a timesheet. But that’s not really the issue. That’s just the surface. You were his boss and his boyfriend and you’re Harry Potter.”

Harry scoffed and Anthony gave the blinds a rather aggressive tug. 

“You should have noticed something. But you didn’t. Either because he did nothing wrong, or you were helping him, or you were too high to notice anything. Which I assumed was just more of Terry’s bullshit, but when I asked Ron Weasley this morning if you had a drug problem he threw a paperweight at my head. And it’s going to be hard if… if you get asked about the timesheets and you give everyone’s favorite answer from a Healer who’s a drug addict.”

“I don’t remember.”

“So I’m going to leave now, and you should talk to whoever it is you’re going to talk to. Also, I think I broke your blinds.” 

Almost as soon as Anthony left, Romilda edged her way back into his office. “Hey, buddy.” Her voice sounded a little strained and she was holding a mug in her hands. “I made you coffee.”

“Romilda Vane.”

“Yes?” she smiled and hurried forward to hand him the mug.

“How long have you been my assistant?”

“Three years.”

“And when was the last time you made me coffee?”

“Well, I --”

“Never. It was never.” 

“It just seemed like the thing to do.”

“It’s going to be fine, Ro.”

“Is it? Because Anthony Goldstein just put his fist through a wall.”

To hide his surprise, Harry took a sip of the coffee. He immediately regretted it. “Ugh!” he spluttered and started to cough.

“Sorry… I’ve never made coffee before and I felt stupid asking.”

He laughed through his cough and waved her off. “It’s fine,” he croaked. “Go back to work.” 

***

When Harry got home from work, Gawain was at the kitchen table with his head in his hands staring at a case file. He clearly wasn’t reading, and it looked like he was physically holding his eyes open. “Hey,” Harry whispered as he pulled out a chair next to Gawain. 

“Hey,” Gawain sighed. He closed the case file and turned to face Harry. “Listen, uh, I wouldn’t ask, but this headache is killing me. Do you have anything?”

“You carry all your tension in your jaw. You need to relax,” Harry got out of his chair and took Gawain’s head in his hands and pressed it to his abdomen. He focused his magic and smoothed his hands through Gawain’s hair. Gawain sighed in relief when his muscles finally relaxed. “There you go,” Harry said softly, but he didn’t release his grip on Gawain. 

“I’m gonna fall asleep,” Gawain muttered into Harry’s shirt. 

“Don’t, we need to talk,” Harry said. He knew he sounded nervous, and he tightened his grip on Gawain’s head to keep him from looking up at Harry. 

“Okay.” Gawain tried to move his head, but Harry had more leverage. “Are we gonna do it like this?” 

“No,” Harry said reluctantly, but he still didn’t let go. 

“Your heart is beating really fast.”

“I just want to start by saying that I’m really sorry. I know this past month has been hard for you and I just… I was really focused inward and I told myself I didn’t have the energy. And you deserve better than that. I should have talked to you a long time ago. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. We’re gonna talk now, right? It’s okay.”

“Okay.”

“Can you let go, so I can look at you?”

Harry dropped his arms and sat back in his chair. “I just… I don’t want you find out in court, or from some lawyer --”

“I don’t mind,” Gawain cut him off. He looked annoyed. It seemed Harry had finally run out Gawain’s saint-like patience. “If that’s why you want to tell me, don’t worry about it.” He put his head back in his hands, the way he’d been sitting when Harry walked in. “Sometime I feel like this” -- he gestured between himself and Harry without looking up -- “only works because I don’t ask you a lot of questions. Like this is only a serious relationship because of how long it’s been since we stopped seeing other people. Like I was supposed to be a rebound, right? And that was fine, I mean, you were open with me about that in the beginning, but I still feel like that sometimes. And I understand where you’re coming from, kind of, and I don’t take it personally. And I haven’t said anything, but really it hasn’t bothered me much until this past month… and I haven’t said anything because I feel like that’s not what this is. 

I want you to tell me things because you want me to know. Because I’m your boyfriend and we live together and I love you. ‘I don’t want you to find out in court’ can be why you tell Molly, you know? I want to support you, and I have no idea how to do that right now. And the stress of the situation is starting to get to me.” He turned his head to examine Harry’s reaction. “Don’t smile at me. I’m very agitated with you.”

“Yes,” Harry said, still smiling. “But you’re agitated because you love me and you want a more serious relationship with me.”

“That’s… yeah, and I have no idea if that’s what you want, which makes me feel like an idiot.” Gawain’s scowl cleared. “That’s why I’ve been so upset! I hate feeling stupid, I do not take it very well.”

“You take it better than a lot of people.”

“Well, I’m not going to hit you because I think you’re smarter than me, if that’s what you mean.”

“I didn’t mean to--”

“Oh, no, you don’t make me feel stupid. I just get in my own head. I actually know you’re smarter than me, and I find it very attractive.” He cocked his head and grinned at Harry. Harry could feel his ears turning pink. 

“Thank you for telling me all of that. And I’m sorry --” Gawain started to shake his head, but Harry kept going -- “I’m sorry that I… you’re not a rebound, christ, I -- you’re very important to me, Gawain. And I have to tell you something, because you’re my boyfriend and we live together and I love you and I want a more serious relationship with you, too. Only I have no idea how to do that. Terry was the first real relationship I ever had, and I’m starting to realize that may not be the best model, so… yeah. And there’s a chance that once you’ve heard what I have to say, that will all be a moot point, anyway.”

“Harry, I promise --”

“You don’t want to do that,” Harry said sharply. 

Gawain sat back in his chair and put his hands up. Harry shifted so he could sit with his legs crossed and pick at a hole in his sock. 

“After the --” Harry’s voice stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “After the war I had trouble sleeping. Which was understandable and there's sleep aids you can take. Only you're not supposed to take Dreamless Sleep every night, it’s…”

“Highly addictive.”

“Well, sure, but it also doesn’t work for very long. It stops putting you to sleep. And then yeah, it’s highly addictive. So I would take it all the time, and it doesn’t -- I wouldn’t be asleep, but I wouldn’t really be… aware, either. It’s like living in that moment right when you wake up, always. And it’s a nice feeling, actually, except I was exhausted all the time. I wanted to find a way to sleep, but I was still afraid of my dream. It was the same dream, over and over again. I’m standing in the clearing in the forest. And Voldemort kills me. And I’m dead.”

“Nightmares --”

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” Harry said. He finally looked up from his sock to gauge Gawain’s reaction. His face was neutral. “I liked it. I wanted to be dead. That’s why the dream scared me. But then… I was so tired.” He dropped his eyes back to his sock. “And being dead was the best rest I’d ever had. And so I thought I’d mix things -- all kinds of things -- with the Dreamless Sleep… and it would either let me sleep or it would kill me and I didn’t really care which. And I probably would have died, except that Hermione is shrewd and merciless and she made me to to Australia with her.”

“To find her parents? She still talks about that trip as the most fun she’s ever had.”

“Well, she was certainly in her element. She just showed up at my house one morning, packed my bag for me, and then we went in a cab to the airport. I thought I was hallucinating, so I just kind of let it play out. About four hours into that flight I realized it was actually happening to me and there was nothing I could do about it.”

“She told me you two went backpacking in the outback.”

“Oh, we did. It was awful,” Harry chuckled slightly. “But she got me clean. And that brought with it a different set of issues. It made me aware of how different I was, not just because of the war, but because the Horcrux was gone. I didn't talk for almost a year. I was just so horrified by what what happening in my own head, I was afraid that if I opened my mouth that-- … I don't even know, anymore, what I was thinking. I had plenty of chances to tell you. Every time you said I should have been an Auror and I got upset… this is why.”

“You probably still would have made it, honestly.” Gawain was starting to relax as well. 

“I wouldn’t have passed the physical. I did too much damage to my internal organs.”

“Oh,” Gawain whispered. 

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “I couldn’t play quidditch my last year at school, either. I said I didn’t want to, but my heart wouldn’t have been able to take the strain.” 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. I have it under control now. It’s fine.”

“So, that’s it?”

“No,” Harry scrubbed his face with his hands. “That was the easy part.” 

“Do you want me to make some tea? Do you need a break?”

“No. But if you need some time to process that, I understand.”

“I’m fine,” Gawain smiled at Harry. 

“Perhaps I did not accurately convey the reality of what I did to myself that summer.”

“I've been an Auror for almost 20 years. I know what you're talking about. Were you expecting a different reaction?”

“I thought… People are usually disgusted.”

“So Terry was disgusted.”

“Yeah.”

“I'm not Terry.”

“I know, but --”

“But nothing. I'm not disgusted. You were a kid and you'd been through an immense trauma.” 

“Don't make excuses for me, Gawain. I can do that enough for the both of us.” The self-loathing in Harry's voice was sharp, and Gawain seemed a little taken aback. Good, Harry thought. 

“So, what's the hard part?”

And it was easier to tell Gawain, now that he was trying to provoke some kind of reaction he recognized. “About two years ago I fell off the wagon. It was the start of summer and Terry and I had two weeks off. He stayed at work the first week on some kind of project for Thompson and then we were supposed to go on vacation somewhere, I don't remember where. Only, I spent the first week high, so we spent the second week in the bathroom while I vomited. It broke Ron’s heart, honestly I still don't think he's really over it. And Hermione’s never been angrier with me.”

“It isolated you from your friends.”

“Yeah, see the first time they were supportive and understanding… But the second time’s not like that. They felt betrayed, and there was nothing I could say to them that didn't sound like a lie anymore. But Terry wasn't there the first time, so he was great, at least in front of my friends. He and Ron were never really close until then. It brought them together,” Harry laughed bitterly. 

“The timing of that is a terrible coincidence.”

“I know,” Harry leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling and tried to blink back the tears that were suddenly there. “And I had these hallucinations, right? Because the brain has to dream, but I was never asleep. And I think because, I dunno, my subconscious was trying to rationalize my behavior, I was so convinced that Terry had drugged me. And I was… I was such an idiot. I remember sitting in the bathroom with Ron and in between throwing up telling him it wasn't my fault. That I didn't do it. And Terry took it really well, said hallucinations were common and that given what a poor job my heart was doing of getting oxygen to my brain it was amazing I hadn't come up with something even more extraordinary.” 

“Ron should have believed you.”

“No, he shouldn't have. And bless him, he didn't, not for one second.”

“If he'd know Terry was abusive --”

“I didn't have the words for that then. Terry started hitting me after that, and I didn't have words for the other stuff.” 

“Your story fits better than Terry’s.”

“No,” Harry gasped, trying not to sob. “I don't even believe it, and it's my story. Terry did a lot of fucked up stuff, to me and in general, but I'm the addict.”

“Do you remember taking the potion?”

“No, but that doesn't mean I didn't.” 

“And it was after that when he started hitting you.”

“Yes, and it… He'd pushed me before, or grabbed me too tightly, but it was the first time he backhanded me that I realized what was happening, like I finally recognized it. But I understood why he was frustrated with me, I knew why he was doing it, it made sense. And I'd always said to myself, well Harry, if he ever actually hits you, you should leave. But I couldn't, not anymore.”

“I believe you.”

“You don’t have to, you shouldn’t,” Harry managed to rasp through his tears. 

Gawain took a deep breath and leaned forward in his chair. “I have about a hundred questions for you.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Harry laughed a little hysterically and wiped the tears off his cheeks with shaking hands. 

“What do you wanna do for dinner?”

“Huh? What?”

“Well, I spent my lunch hour at Gringotts, so I’m starving.”

“Yeah, uh, me too, actually,” Harry said with surprise. “Let’s get takeout. I don’t want to deal with cooking.”

“I could cook.”

“Oh, um… that’s, uh, I mean --”

“I’m kidding,” Gawain chuckled. “You should have seen your face.”

Harry laughed, too, and relaxed enough to unfurl himself from the chair. Gawain was an astonishingly terrible cook. “You pick,” Harry said, gesturing at all the menus tacked up on the fridge. “I’m going to go shower before dinner.” Harry stood, and Gawain stood, too. He pressed his lips into a thin line and stared at Harry. Harry sighed. “I just… I sweat a lot when I cry, okay?” 

Gawain didn’t say anything. 

Harry signed again. “I’m not about to go slit my wrists in the shower.”

Gawain did not look convinced. “Okay, I trust you.”

“Do you?” 

“Yes. Yes, I do. I just -- I’m starting to put together, you know, what you’ve told me with what I’ve observed and I --”

“Okay, okay,” Harry said gently. “I’m going to go shower, and you can come.” 

“Yeah?” Gawain smirked at Harry. He expected Harry to roll his eyes and tell him to get a grip, but he just smiled and shrugged as he left the kitchen. “I’m serious if you’re serious,” Gawain said hopefully, as he followed Harry upstairs. 

Harry stopped in the bedroom, halfway between the door to the hall and the door to the bathroom. Gawain, who had been right behind Harry, almost ran into him. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and rested his forehead on Harry’s shoulder. Harry let his head loll to the side to lean against Gawain’s. Despite how nervous he was about the trial -- especially since Anthony had left his office -- Harry felt so much better about everything in this moment. 

“You gonna get in the shower?” Gawain asked quietly. 

“I want you to fuck me, I’ll shower after.” Harry could feel himself blushing, which he hated, but he could also feel Gawain’s smile against his scapula. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Hey,” Harry turned around to look at Gawain. “I’m serious.”

“Well, if you change your mind --”

“Trust me, you’ll know.”

“What?”

“I will tell you, Gawain.”

“Oh, okay good.”

“You’re an idiot,” Harry said fondly. Gawain murmured in agreement and slid his hands down Harry’s back to cup his ass. Harry smoothed his hands over the hard planes of Gawain’s chest before pushing lightly so that Gawain sat down on the edge of the bed. He leaned over and fished the lube out of the bedside drawer. “Would you wipe that grin off your face?” Harry said as he placed his knees on the bed to straddle Gawain’s hips. 

“What do you mean?” Gawain wrapped his arms around Harry’s hips and pulled their bodies flush. 

“I just… stop looking at me like that.”

“What? This is my normal face.” 

“I know.” Harry shifted in an attempt to avoid Gawain’s eyes, and in doing so brushed their half-hard cocks together. 

“Uh,” Gawain stuttered and his mouth fell open. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just feel… self-conscious, I guess.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“No, I want to,” Harry said and he met Gawain’s eyes with a small, confident smile. 

“Okay, then, yeah, I mean --” 

Harry cut him off by pressing their lips together and grinding down in Gawain’s lap. Gawain tilted his head to meet Harry’s kiss and moved his hands to Harry’s hips, bringing their bodies more firmly together. Harry gasped, and Gawain took the opportunity to pull Harry’s lower lip into his mouth and trace it with his tongue before sucking on it. Harry’s hips jerked in Gawain’s hands, and he grinned against Harry’s lips. Still warming the bottle of lube in his hand, Harry tugged at the bottom of Gawain’s shirt. Gawain removed his shirt and then helped Harry do that same. 

“You doing okay?” Gawain asked as Harry’s shirt cleared his head. 

“Yeah,” Harry grinned with kiss-swollen lips. Gawain reached up and removed Harry’s glasses, which had been knocked horribly askew by his shirt. Harry blinked as his eyes tried to adjust before letting them fall shut as Gawain pulled him into another kiss. Harry moaned as his bare chest made contact with Gawain’s. 

Gawain moved his hands gently up and down Harry’s sides, slowing their kiss and reveling the feeling of Harry’s warm, bare skin. Harry relaxed into the slower pace and rolled his hips languidly. Gawain brought one hand up to cup the back of Harry’s head as he kissed his way along Harry’s jaw to the soft spot just below his ear. 

“Gawain?” Harry panted. “Your belt buckle is digging into my skin.”

Gawain pulled back, slightly confused by such a long string of words. Harry’s eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide with arousal, and he grinned dazedly at Gawain. He couldn’t remember whatever he had planned to say in response.

“Let me help you with that,” Harry whispered. He reached down and rubbed Gawain’s cock through his pants with one hand, while struggling to undo his belt with the other. His progress was not helped by the renewed attention Gawain was paying to his neck. “Gawain,” Harry huffed in amusement. “You’re not helping.” Gawain grinned in response and nipped at the skin just above Harry’s collarbone. 

In an attempt to be more helpful, Gawain dropped both his hands to his belt buckle as well. This only made the process more difficult. 

“Oh my god,” Harry finally muttered and stood up, tossing the now warm lube onto the bed next to Gawain. “Take off your own damn pants,” he told Gawain as he did the same. Harry was a bit more enthusiastic climbing back onto Gawain’s lap, and Gawain ended up flat on his back with Harry’s hands braced on his shoulders. Harry laughed at the look of surprise on Gawain’s face. “Was that so hard?” he teased.

Gawain just smirked and raised his eyebrows. 

“Honestly, did your sense of humor stop developing at fourteen?”

“Yes,” Gawain grinned in response and ran his hands lightly up and down Harry’s thighs. 

Harry retrieved and opened the lube. Gawain held out his hand expectantly, but Harry squirted a generous amount onto his own hand and reached behind him. Harry’s mouth dropped open and his eyes fluttered closed as he started to open himself up. 

“Hey, I wanna do that,” Gawain said. He meant to sound petulant, but he was too out of breath. 

Harry grinned and blinked open his eyes. “You’ll have to -- oh, ah -- wait your turn,” Harry panted. 

Gawain groaned and reached down to stroke his own cock, mesmerized by the movements of Harry’s shoulder muscles as he fingered himself. 

Harry’s hand stilled and his brow knit together. “Gawain, can you --”

“Yeah,” Gawain breathed. He hurriedly propped himself up on one elbow so he could more easily reach up and press down on Harry’s wrist, forcing his fingers deeper inside of him. He could feel the tendons in Harry’s hand moving as he scissored his fingers. “Harry.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Harry gently withdrew his own hand and Gawain scrambled to uncap the lube. 

Gawain sat up again, securing one arm around Harry’s waist and sliding the other hand down to circle Harry’s hole. “Hey,” he said as Harry pressed their foreheads together. “You still doing okay?” 

Harry nodded. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Gawain said, and he twisted two fingers inside Harry and immediately pressed down on his prostate. All of Harry’s breath left his lungs and he curled his body into Gawain’s. “Is that what you were looking for, Healer Potter?”

Harry gasped for breath and shuddered as Gawain moved his hand deeper. “It’s the angle.”

“Mmhm,” Gawain grinned smugly and tilted his face forward to kiss Harry. Harry’s hands scrambled for purchase on Gawain’s shoulder as he tried to press back onto Gawain’s hand and forward to rub his cock against Gawain’s stomach. “Easy, I got you,” Gawain breathed against Harry’s lips. 

Harry smiled softly and tried to kiss Gawain again, but he was breathing too hard to do much more than brush their lips together. “I’m almost ready.”

“Let’s do this a little while longer.”

“Why?” Harry asked, and then he cried out as Gawain curled his fingers to rub his knuckles against Harry’s prostate. 

“Because I like fingering you.”

Harry grinned. 

“And because you’re so tight… do you not put anything up your ass when you masturbate? Because --” he rubbed small circles against Harry’s prostate. Harry whined and dropped his head to Gawain’s shoulder. “You really seem to like it.”

“I do,” Harry gasped against Gawain’s neck. 

“Wait -- you do what?” Gawain teased. 

“Gawain,” Harry pleaded. 

“Okay,” Gawain soothed. He shifted his hand away from Harry’s prostate and then slowly withdrew it while placing open mouthed kisses along the line of Harry’s shoulder. 

Harry sat back on Gawain’s thighs and tried to catch his breath. He reached down and wrapped his hand around Gawain’s cock and stroked it from base to tip while murmuring the protective charm. 

Gawain’s hips stuttered. “That’s so hot.”

Harry smirked and pushed at Gawain’s shoulders so he lay flat on his back again. Harry braced one hand on Gawain’s chest and used the other to start guiding Gawain’s cock into his body. When Harry finally seated himself fully, he felt Gawain run his hands up Harry’s thighs to squeeze his hips. “‘M okay,” Harry panted. He rolled his hips experimentally and his mouth dropped open as he moaned. 

Gawain’s hips twitched as he struggled to stay still. 

Harry fucked himself slowly on Gawain’s cock, re-familiarizing himself with the pressure and fullness of it. He settled himself into a rhythm and grinned down at Gawain. 

Gawain moved one hand from Harry’s hip to stroke his cock. Harry snapped his hips forward and came with a look of surprise on his face. Gawain sat up, catching Harry as his arms gave out. He buried his face in Harry’s neck until his muscles relaxed around Gawain’s cock again. 

Harry’s surprise morphed into delight and he let his arms slide around Gawain’s neck. Harry post-orgasm was one of Gawain’s favorite things. He was always completely relaxed, more vocal, and more generous with his smiles and kisses. 

Gawain lifted his head and kissed at the corner of Harry’s grin. Harry tilted his head and kissed Gawain messily. He moaned and shifted, trying to get closer to Gawain, and in doing so was reminded of the presence of Gawain’s very hard cock in his ass. Still sensitive, Harry keened and shuddered. 

“Yeah,” Gawain breathed. “Here you go,” he murmured, and reached under Harry’s knees, one at a time and moved his legs to circle Gawain’s waist.

Harry gasped and whimpered as Gawain moved his body. He tried to move his hips to fuck himself on Gawain’s cock, but it was hard with his legs around Gawain’s waist. He pouted up at Gawain. 

Gawain grinned and shifted closer to the edge of the bed to plant his feet more firmly on the floor. Harry was determined to pout, but Gawain rolled his hips up into Harry and he couldn’t help but grin back. “Yeah, come on,” he urged Gawain. 

When Gawain had imagined this moment, he’d thought he’d be much more gentle. But Harry’s body was warm and pliant, and it was too easy to snap his hips sharply into that tight heat, especially with the noises Harry was making. 

After Gawain came, he dropped his forehead to Harry’s shoulder and gasped for breath. Harry gently carded his hands through Gawain’s hair and moved backwards so that Gawain’s softening cock slipped out of his body. He struggled to remove his legs from around Gawain’s waist and then rolled off Gawain to lay on his back on the bed next to him. Gawain lay down too, and Harry curled into him. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Well, now I’m really hungry,” Harry grinned. “And even sweatier. I’m gonna go shower.”

“No, no, no,” Gawain murmured. “Hang on a minute.” He wrapped one arm around Harry and pulled him close. “Why are you always in such a hurry?”

Harry hesitated. “Terry didn’t like it. Said I was clingy, like an octopus.”

“You are an octopus. I like it.” Gawain buried his nose in Harry’s hairline. “Thank you for telling me.”

Harry sighed in relief and flung an arm and a leg over Gawain. “Tomorrow I have to --”

“Take the night off. Let’s get takeout and watch that medical drama you hate. I wanna watch you scream at the TV about how it’s never Lupus.”

“But I --”

“There’s nothing you can do about it tonight. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
